


11x06/Season 11 Destiel Scenario - "The Things We Never Talk About"

by Samanstiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Canon verse, DeanCas - Freeform, Destiel - Freeform, Destiel Fluff, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluffy, Hunting, M/M, Profound Bond, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Scenario, Season 11, Team Free Will, The Darkness - Freeform, admitting feelings, canon!verse, canon!verse destiel, casdean - Freeform, deancas fluff, not an au, supernatural season 11, tfw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-06
Updated: 2015-11-06
Packaged: 2018-04-30 08:19:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5156741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Samanstiel/pseuds/Samanstiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A kind of Dean/Cas admitting of deeper feelings set around episodes 3-7 of season 11 of supernatural. I imagine this scenario would take place over several episodes if it was actually canon, with Sam bringing up their relationship several episodes before what happens. Also, I have only read through it twice so grammar errors probably exist. I tried to place emphasis on the importance of Sam to Dean & Castiel's relationship & keep them in character as much as possible in the spirit of supernatural.</p><p>I really suck at summaries but basically after Sam points out the awkwardness Dean has towards Castiel, he convinces Dean to talk to him which is broken up into several small angsty chats. During all of this emotional conflict, Sam gets a tip on Metatron and The Darkness, which ultimately ends in Team Free Will heading to a town touched by the darkness, Cas facing off with Amara, and Dean and Cas getting locked up in a basement together by some soulless people and things get...well, interesting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	11x06/Season 11 Destiel Scenario - "The Things We Never Talk About"

It had been a long hunt, but Sam was always researching to find any information he could in regards to Metatron, Amara, or The Darkness. He kept tabs, and when he wasn’t looking through news stories on the Internet that pertained to supernatural events, he was researching, making phone calls, and taking all the notes he could about the bigger forces that he had unleashed upon the world with his brother and Castiel. He was ready to take responsibility, and with his newfound knowledge of holy oil as a cure for whatever the darkness did to humanity, he was eager to clean up his mess.  
            Dean, on the other hand, was aloof and out of it. His mind was everywhere—on Amara, on Cas, on Sam, worried and feeling guilty over everything. Seeing Castiel’s healing progress made him feel slightly better about the situation that had happened only weeks before, but he still couldn’t forgive himself for how he had lost control.  
            And now the darkness was coming.  
            “How’s Cas?” Sam asked one night when Dean finally woke up from a very long nap and dragged his way into the library where Sam had been sitting for at least two hours.  
            “He’s okay,” Dean answered automatically. “He’s binge watched at least five shows on Netflix by now. I guess not sleeping has its perks.”  
            “You know, the two of you made a great team back with the ghoulpires—or whatever. I’m glad we had him to help us.”  
            “Yeah, I agree,” Dean spoke casually, “What are you in to?”  
            “Just looking for cases”—  
            “Sam, our last case was literally two days ago. Can you just relax for like, one day?”  
            “Hey, you’re the one who said you were bored. I’m just lining them up in case you want to get out of the bunker,” Sam defended himself with a small smile.  
            “I do want to get out of the bunker,” Dean admitted, “But not for a case. Want to go grab something to eat?”  
            “Sure, should we ask Cas if he wants to come?” Sam questioned, shutting the lid of his laptop as he stood.  
            “Nah, he’s really in to whatever it is he’s watching. I peeked in on him and some chick was getting her head torn off and he was completely unfazed by it.”  
            “Yeah, this job will do that to you,” Sam laughed, “We’re going to have to get him off of that eventually.”  
            “Yeah, but he’s incredibly old and has done a lot to help us, I think he deserves a week or two of resting and Netflix watching. You ready?”  
            “Yep,” and the two headed up the stairs and out the bunker.  
            The car ride was long and quiet for the most part. Dean drove, but he didn’t bother playing music. Sam didn’t mind. He was lost in thought about incidents that had recently occurred to him, and truthfully Dean was thoughtful as well. They sat in silence, with no real destination. Dean wanted an excuse to get out into the night that didn’t involve hunting down monster hybrids or worrying about the darkness, but something normal with his brother. A food run was normal, right?  
            “Do you think we should call Cas and see if he needs us to pick anything up for him?” Sam thought aloud, breaking the silence.  
            “Nah, he doesn’t eat so it’d be pointless.”  
            “Is everything okay?” Sam questioned, his real thoughts finally surfacing.  
            “Yeah, what do you mean?” Dean answered, slightly offended at the concern that he believed he didn’t deserve.  
            “I mean, with you and Cas? He’s acting normal, for the most part, which he’s a bit abnormal but I mean, he’s Cas, so that’s kind of his thing… but you on the other hand…you’ve been acting so different towards him. Is everything alright between you two?”  
            “Yeah, everything is fine,” Dean lied, not wanting to talk about what he was feeling. “What, do you not think he deserves the break I’m giving him?”  
            “No, of course he deserves it!” Sam snapped, offended, “I mean, you have been acting awkward around him. Did something happen that you’re not telling me?”  
            “Sam, no, okay, I just…I don’t know, I just really want him to get better,” he spoke truthfully, which it wasn’t a lie—Dean really did want Cas to get better, but what was really bothering him he didn’t want to talk about.  
            “Okay, if you say so. But, Dean, you know if there is ever anything you need to talk about”—  
            “I know, I know, you’re here to listen,” Dean interrupted, shaking his head. A small smile formed on Sam’s lips before he dropped the conversation, occupying himself by looking out the window. Moments passed in silence before Dean finally spoke again.  
            “Sam, I have to tell you something.”  
            “What?” Sam turned his attention to his brother, concern on his face. He knew something was wrong. He was ready to listen.  
            “Something did happen with me and Cas.”  
            “Okay?”  
            “I wasn’t going to say anything, but secrets tear this family apart.”  
            “I agree,” Sam nodded his head, his voice full of empathy and curiosity.  
            “How much do you know about what happened that day at the bunker? When the Stynes came?” Dean questioned.  
            “I know that you killed them all and that I cleaned up the blood,” Sam recalled with wide eyes.  
            “So, Cas didn’t tell you?” Dean declared, glancing at his brother who sat with a confused expression on his face. Sam shook his head.  
            “No?” Sam answered. “Why, did something bad happen with Cas?”  
            “Worse than bad, Sammy,” Dean admitted, shaking his head with shame as he recollected the events that had happened.  
            “Dean…what happened?” Sam questioned carefully. Dean took a few moments to gather his thoughts.  
            “They came into our home and were piling all of our stuff up. They were going to burn it—destroy it all. There was this kid there. No older than you were when I first came and got you from Stanford. Innocent—and deep down, I believed him, but I couldn’t stop myself. I was so fueled, so determined to destroy their family. He wasn’t one of them, not really, and I killed him. I killed him and I didn’t feel bad about it.”  
            “Dean, you were doing what you thought was best—and your mind was being completely irrational from the mark, no one blames you for what you did or what you thought you needed to do,” Sam defended him, “Yes, what you did was terrible, but not something you would have done if you were in your right mind.”  
            “Yeah, Cas thought the same thing, but honestly that’s not even the worst part of the story.”  
            “What?”  
            “Cas was there, Sam. He made it just in time for me to shoot that kid. He tried talking to me, told me how far off the deep end I had gone. I was so blinded by the mark that I didn’t believe him. I thought what I had done was right and that I was no different for doing it, but he was right.”  
            “Well, Cas does know you, Dean. He knows you wouldn’t have done that to a kid if you weren’t under some terrible influence,” Sam informed.  
            “I know, and I hope to god he knows me enough to know that what I did to him was something I would never normally do to him, ever, under any circumstance, period,” Dean declared harshly, his voice full of emotion. He paused to settle down.  
 “Cas has done some shady things in the past, but never once has he deserved what I did to him, Sam, and he sure as hell didn’t deserve it after what he was saying to me.”  
            “Dean…what did you do?”  
            “I was so caught up, Sammy. I was so lost and angry, and he just got in the way,” his voice cracked slightly as he talked, his words slow as he tried to settle his emotions, “I learned that day that there are two people in the world that I can’t kill no matter what, you and him, but I came so damn close to killing Cas. I saw it. I wanted to. Every part of me told me to kill him, to take out all my anger on him, but something stopped me and I thank god or whoever-the-hell for that. He was saying how I had turned into a monster, and how eventually everyone would die and that he didn’t want to be the person to watch me destroy the world, because only he would stay alive long enough to see it,” he paused to glance at his brother, who stared at him with attentive eyes and an open mind, “He didn’t want to fight me. He didn’t fight back, but when I threw that first punch at him I was gone. He kept talking and I hated him for it. I hated how he wouldn’t swing at me, and how he kept coming back to me trying to calm me down. I just wanted him to stay away from me. I don’t know if it was because I wanted to hurt him or if I wanted to push him away, but he kept trying to calm me down, even after I had hit him so many times. He was bleeding and on the ground. I grabbed his angel blade and I raised it. I had every intention of killing him, and that scares the crap out of me, but I didn’t. I couldn’t, and I can’t look at him because I almost killed him and he still wants to heal me. He’s still putting me before himself. He still wants to stick around even though every part of me wanted to rip him apart when we were together in the bunker, just because he was worried about me. I don’t know why he puts me first. I don’t deserve it.”  
            “Dean, he does all of this because he cares about you,” Sam informed Dean with ease, as if it was something the whole world knew and understood. Dean glanced at him with confusion, as if he didn’t know this obvious fact, “He, now more than ever, knows what it is like to be under the influence of something terrible and lose control. What happened…was awful, but that’s behind us. Cas doesn’t hold grudges, and you don’t have to let this eat at you for the rest of your life. Have you talked to him about what happened?”  
            “Of course not, Sam. This is me we are talking about. I’m not good with talking or with feelings.”  
            “Feelings?” Sam questioned suddenly, his mind fixated on that one word.  
            “Yeah, I mean, I just bottle it all up and hope I can get through it all without exploding. It’s easier that way.”  
            “No, it’s not,” Sam chuckled in disbelief at Dean’s justification, “I’m glad you are opening up about this to me, but that’s my advice. Talk to him about it.”  
            “Sam, I can’t even look at the guy, I don’t know how you think I can handle talking to him about it.”  
            “You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for,” Sam defended. “Besides, it’s Cas, he will always be willing to listen to whatever you have to say.”  
            “Yeah, and I don’t get why he hasn’t hauled ass away from us.”  
            “He stays for you, Dean,” Sam declared softly.  
            “What?” Dean rebutted defensively, not because he didn’t hear what his brother said but because he wanted a justification for it.  
            “Well, for me, too, but mainly for you. Your ‘profound bond’—or whatever.”  
            “What the hell are you insinuating right now?” Dean questioned defensively.  
            “Look, Dean, I know you don’t like talking about your feelings, and maybe I’m the wrong person to be talking about this with, but how do you think Cas feels about you?” Sam asked softly, trying not to offend his brother.  
            “What?” Dean repeated in the same tone as before, in disbelief over how the conversation was panning out.  
            “Answer my question.”  
            “I don’t know, he probably thinks I’m an ass for nearly killing him!” Dean blurted out honestly.  
            “No, he could never think that,” Sam objected.  
            “What?”  
            “Cas admires you, Dean, and everyone sees it. He follows you around like a puppy, he listens to what you have to say, he looks at you like”—  
            “Looks at me like what?” Dean interrupted harshly.  
            “Like how I used to look at Jess,” Sam answered quietly. Dean grew quiet, sinking in this new piece of information. He swallowed hard, unsure of how to react.    “All I am saying Dean is…talk to Cas about what happened, and ask him how he feels about you. I feel like the two of you never really talk, it’s just about the case. Do you even know what his favorite color is? I just feel like there is a lot you two can talk about—get off your chest, and it would be best to go ahead and do it now.”  
            “Why? What’s the point?” Dean questioned.  
            “Because the two of you are friends—you owe it to each other that much. I mean, here you and I are, making a food run or whatever without talking about anything supernatural, why can’t you do the same with Cas? Sit down, talk about something that doesn’t have the words darkness, Amara, Metatron, ghosts, demons, or end of the world in them and just get to know each other a bit more. You may find out more about yourself if you do that,” Sam elaborated. Dean fell silent.  
            “Fine,” Dean grunted finally, shaking his head. “I’ll do it.”  
            “Good,” Sam smiled triumphantly, “I think this will be good for you.”  
            “Well, anyways, I’m starving. What the hell are we eating?”  
            “Tacos sound good,” Sam offered.  
            “Tacos it is,” Dean agreed.

 

            “I think I may have found something on Metatron,” Sam declared the next day over supper, his eyes wide with discovery. Dean sat with his legs propped up on another chair, eating leftover tacos from the night before. He shifted in his seat upon hearing this information, sitting up and leaning over the table to listen to his brother.  
            “And?” Dean questioned.  
            “I think Cas needs to hear this,” Sam informed, glancing at his brother. Dean was hesitant, but he agreed.  
            “I’ll get him,” Dean offered with slight dread, rolling the taco wrapper into a ball as he stood and made his way to Sam’s room, which is where Castiel had been occupying himself during his binge. He tossed the wrapper into the trashcan when he passed it and slowly made his way to the door. He contemplated knocking first, but what could the angel possibly be doing that he would need to knock? Instead he leaned his head against the door, muffled sounds of the television reaching his ear.  He opened the door slowly.  
            “Cas?” Dean questioned, and sure enough the angel had not moved form his position on Sam’s bed. The TV was on—some show involving witches, but Cas wasn’t watching it. Instead he was passed out on the bed, much to Dean’s astonishment, wrapped in the blanket he had clung to when he was under the effects of the attack dog curse, several books on ancient monsters and his cell phone laying idle by.  
            “Hey, Cas?” Dean spoke with concern, swiftly making his way to the bed. He tapped the angel softly and his eyes fluttered open. Cas groaned.  
            “I thought angels didn’t need to sleep?” Dean questioned. “Are you okay?”  
            “I’m fine,” Cas reassured unreassuringly, his voice a grovel as he sat up, rubbing his fingers along his temple. “Four days of nothing but reading and watching TV really isn’t good for a headache.”  
            “No, I guess not,” Dean chuckled, his eyes wandering around to the small mess the angel had made of his brother’s room. “We really need to get you your own room.”  
            “You lacked proper medicine in your bathroom cabinets and I didn’t want to be a bother, so I thought sleeping might cure the pain, which was an incredibly hard feat to achieve, even if I’m not a full capacity.”  
            “Sorry I woke you up,” Dean quickly apologized.  
            “No, it’s okay. It’s clear that I’m still not completely over this curse. It really did a toll on me, and whatever I'm going through with my grace...it hasn't helped either. I still can’t fly, which I was hoping would eventually come back after having my grace back for so long as some kind of delayed reaction— having been without it for a while—but it’s clear that being human has weakened my grace.”  
            “This has happened before,” Dean reminded him softly.  
            “I know, and God put me back on the top,” Cas recalled, standing up and walking to the television. “But that won’t be the case this time, and besides, it's different. I'm not sure how or why, but it just feels different from before. I feel like I'm really...torn between the two worlds, not just metaphorically but literally as well.”  
            “Well, Cas, you know you can still rest”—  
            “I want to help, Dean,” Cas interrupted as he clicked the TV off, “I think getting back into the fight would help me. Make me sharper, or at least occupy me so that I don’t form headaches by engaging in too much television and literature.”  
            “Are you sure?” Dean questioned and Cas nodded.  
            “Of course.”  
            “Well, Sam thinks he has found something on Metatron,” Dean informed and Cas’s face scrunched up at the sound of his name. He clutched the blanket draped around him.  
            “That’s…good news, finding the demon tablet—getting it back, that’ll help us,” Cas concluded.  
            “Alright, glad you’re on board,” Dean spoke with a smile, making his way to the door. Cas began to follow, but Dean paused for a moment, turning to face the angel who stood in his brother’s room as he stood in the doorframe. Dean was silent for a moment and Cas stared at him with confusion. Dean lifted his hands, gesturing as he talked.  
            “Hey, um, what’s your favorite color?” Dean asked suddenly.  
            “Green,” Cas answered, finding no oddity in the unusual question.  
            “Seriously, green?” Dean rebutted in disbelief. Cas became defensive of his answer.  
            “Yes—green, like the grass. It’s a good color, Dean.”  
            “Psh, whatever,” Dean teased and walked away, Cas following him.

            Sam had received an email from another hunter named Amber. Sam had emailed everyone he knew pertaining to information on Amara, The Darkness, or Metatron. Amber had replied and informed Sam that they had spotted Metatron, or at least someone who looked like him, at the town where she was working a case. It was a long drive, and Sam barely knew the woman, but the two had met at one point or another during one of his separations from his brother and had a beer together, discussing hunting after Sam had noticed her anti-possession tattoo on her wrist. Sam trusted her.  
            “We’re going on a hunch given to you by a girl you met one time years ago?” Dean objected.  
            “I trust her,” Sam announced.  
            “I can’t believe this,” Dean grumbled.  
            “Dean, our last case was literally on a hunch as well and it turned out to be something big.”  
            “I agree with Sam,” Cas chimed in, sitting across from the youngest brother, still wrapped in his blanket. “Any hunch is worth checking out if it comes to Metatron.”  
            “Alright, alright,” Dean agreed. “Let’s head out, we can make it by midnight.”  
Cas stood, removing the blanket from his shoulders and folding it up, leaving it on the table in front of him. Sam eyed him with curiosity.  
            “You coming, Cas?” Sam questioned. Cas’s eyes darted at Dean, as if to ask for permission.  
            “Yeah, he’s okay now,” Dean informed his brother. Sam nodded and the three made their way to the car to begin the long drive to meet the fellow hunter Sam had gotten the tip from.  
            At some point during the drive, Dean pulled over and Sam switched spots with Cas. Sam wanted to sleep, and since Dean wasn’t tired and Cas didn’t sleep, he agreed that Sam should get some rest. They continued their drive with Cas in the passenger seat, Sam stretched out in the back, and Dean driving. The ride was silent for nearly half an hour, Sam’s gentle sounds of slumber echoing from the backseat. Cas stared out the window. Dean stared out on the dark highway.  
            He glanced at Cas.  
            “So, did it really rain for 40 days and 40 nights?” Dean asked casually.  
            “It’s more of an expression, really— and I don’t really remember how long it rained, but it was a very long time,” Cas answered automatically, once again finding no oddity in Dean’s random questions.  
            “That must have been dreary,” Dean spoke.  
            “It was,” Cas reassured, “for me, at least. The other angels seemed to enjoy it. It was a lot more brutal than what it was made out to be.”  
            “So, have you always had a soft spot for humanity?” Dean questioned. Cas glanced at him with his head tilted, his mind recollecting events as he pondered the question.  
            “I guess I have,” Cas concluded honestly, “But not until recently have I had a real reason to fight for it. Old me was more sympathetic, now I’m…I can empathize. I’ve seen struggling up close, and I’ve struggled myself. I guess what the other angels don’t realize is once you get close to someone—to humanity—and really care for them, it’s hard not to see things differently, its hard not to want to help them, to not choose them over any of our corrupt siblings.”  
            “You’d choose humanity over your own family?” Dean questioned.  
            “I have many times already, Dean,” Cas admitted, “As you say, family doesn’t end in blood, and it doesn’t begin there, either. You and Sam—no matter what, you would never hurt me intentionally. I’ve learned recently that even the angels who I thought would never harm me no matter how bad things got— they still turned on me. It’s a play for power, every angel is a piece in another angel’s game, all trying to reach the top, not caring who they have to step on to get there—even if we are family.”  
            “Humans do that too, you know,” Dean pointed out. Cas stared.  
            “I know, but you and Sam don’t. You would do anything for each other, and I admire that. That kind of devotion is something the other angels are incapable of feeling, because they’ve never seen it or been part of it. I feel like when I am here with you, I am with my family. Things have been rough, Dean, but never once have I felt like an orphan around you and your brother. With the other angels…there’s just emptiness. They don’t truly care about me. They would kill me if it meant they would gain something.”  
            “Like how I nearly killed you?” Dean finally uttered what was on his mind, his words full of escaping emotions. Cas could sense the guilt and the pain in his voice. Cas shook his head.  
            “You weren’t yourself, Dean”—  
            “That’s no excuse.”  
            “It doesn’t matter,” Cas objected, “Dean—I hold no grudge or hatred of you for what happened. I just want things to go back to the way they were before—for you to stop hating yourself for it and for everything you do. You couldn’t kill me, because something deep inside you prevented it, and that is enough for me. Do not compare yourself to the angels, who feel no companionship or compassion, when you are so full of it that you hate yourself the instant you think something you are doing is the slightest bit wrong. You couldn’t kill me, Dean, and that in itself is more devotion than I have ever received from any of my brothers and sisters.”  
            “That’s pretty messed up,” Dean muttered with a small laugh.  
            “Well, you were pretty messed up, Dean,” Cas defended him, “But you still found your way back enough to stop yourself form doing anything worse, and your prolonged guilt over this incident makes you more compassionate than any angel and the majority of mankind.”  
            “I’m sorry,” Dean spoke finally after a period of silence. Cas smiled softly, turning his head to the man who drove. Dean’s face was stone—still and cold. Apologizing was never hard for Dean, but in this moment Dean felt like he couldn’t say it enough. Instead, his apology came out feeble and under his breath and not because he didn’t mean it but because he was emotional. Cas brushed a hand over Dean’s shoulder and Dean instantly turned to look at his friend. They stared, and Dean truly knew in that moment that Castiel had forgiven him before the incident had even happened. Dean still felt like he didn’t deserve it—like he didn’t deserve the friendship he had with this angel, but this was the first step he needed to take in order to forgive himself.  
            “I know, Dean,” Cas spoke, “and I forgive you. Now no more feeling guilty.”  
            “I’ll try,” Dean nodded and Cas removed his hand from the man’s shoulder. The two fell silent again as the drive progressed. They were reaching their destination. Dean occasionally glanced at the angel beside him, and Cas just stared blankly ahead.  
            “What is your favorite color, Dean?” Cas questioned after a few miles, a small smile on his face as if to mimic the earlier conversation. Dean couldn’t help but smile as well.  
            “Blue,” Dean answered coolly. “But not like a stupid baby blue, more like a deep night sky blue.”  
            “Like after sunset?” Cas questioned.  
            “Yeah, right before all the light of day is gone, but after the colors of the sunset have settled. Sammy and I, when we were younger we used to watch the sunset a lot and his favorite part was of course the colors, but I always liked the calmness that came with that dark blue.”  
            “It’s a good color,” Cas concluded. Dean chuckled.  
            “What? Not going to mock me like I mocked you?” Dean questioned and Cas shook his head with a smile.  
            Moments later, the car drove by a sign that informed them that they were in the town where Metatron had been spotted. It was bigger than a town, really, but lacked the hustle of a city. Dean turned to poke his brother who was still snoozing in the back seat.  
            “Hey, wake up, we are here! Where do we go now?” Dean spoke, shaking the man. Sam shot up, his eyes foggy from sleep. He ran his fingers through his hair and pulled out his phone from his pocket while yawning.  
            “Uh, she said she won’t be able to meet us until morning,” Sam informed, looking at text messages exchanged between him and Amber. “So, hotel?”  
            “Of course,” Dean mouthed grouchily, pulling up to the closest hotel he could find. The three men got out of the car and Sam checked them in as Cas and Dean remained outside by the car. Cas had begun to walk inside with Sam when Dean pulled him back.  
            “Hey—um,” Dean spoke and Cas turned to him. Dean opened his arms and embraced the angel, much to the angel’s surprise. After a few moments, Cas lifted his arms up and wrapped them around the man who was hugging him. He closed his eyes, tucking himself into Dean’s shoulder. Dean released a few moments later and pulled back slowly.  
            “Thanks for everything that you do,” Dean spoke awkwardly and Cas bowed a bit with a smile, delighted by the sudden appreciation and embrace.  
            “Of course, Dean,” Cas answered softly and the two turned to watch Sam as he returned with their room keys.  
            The two men slept on two separate beds while Cas stayed up, sitting in the kitchen chair reading over some books he had brought with him. When morning finally came, Sam insisted on meeting the hunter alone while Dean and Cas checked out the location where Metatron had been spotted, which Amber had texted Sam the location.  
            “What, want some alone time with this chick?” Dean asked, driving up to the diner where Sam was scheduled to meet Amber. Sam waved at a tall woman who stood in front of the diner, a phone in her hand and her anti-possession tattoo flashing on her ebony skin along with a few other tattoos scattered on her chest and other arm. She had a big, bright smile and looked sweet, but also like she could kick your ass. She wore knee-high leather boots, a white tank top, and ripped jeans. Her dark curly hair was tied up in a high ponytail and her eyes hidden behind thick glasses.  
            “Just trying to save some time—if Metatron shows back up where he was then you two will be there. Amber also has some information on The Darkness.”  
            “What? You didn’t tell me this?” Dean snapped.  
            “Well, I don’t know what kind of information yet, that’s what I’m going to find out, so that’s why I didn’t tell you,” Sam shrugged, getting out of the car.  
Dean and Castiel tracking down Metatron ultimately ended in the capturing and kidnapping of the ex angel, who Castiel was less than enthusiastic about seeing again. They managed to knock the man out and he awoke in an abandoned building on the outskirts of the town.  
            “Abandoned building? How cliché,” Metatron mouthed.  
            “Oh, talking smack from the little man without his wings,” Dean spat back with a smile.  
            “I don’t understand what you want with me—I’m not an angel anymore, I’m useless to you”—  
            “You know your use, Metatron,” Cas interjected aggressively. Dean stared at the angel next to him, unaccustomed to seeing such behavior. “The demon tablet—you stole it.”  
            “Stealing is such a harsh word. Is it really stealing it when I’m the one who wrote it?”  
            “Enough with your games, Metatron!” Cas yelled, stepping forward. Dean pulled him back, placing a hand on his shoulder.  
            “Cas, cool down,” Dean whispered to him. Cas was taken back by Dean’s gentle touch. He nodded.  
            “Sorry, he just…agitates me,” Cas muttered.  
            “Maybe you should go wait in the car. I’ll handle this,” Dean told him and Cas nodded. He shot Metatron a hateful glare before he turned and headed for the door.  
            “Funny how you obey him more than the angels,” Metatron yelled. Cas didn’t pause in his pursuit. As soon as he was gone, Ruby’s knife was lifted to Metatron’s throat and Dean was bent over him, authority and hatred in his eyes. Metatron flinched backwards, startled by the sudden aggression from Dean.  
            “I thought you said he was being too aggressive”—  
            “I just wanted him to leave so he wouldn’t have to see me do whatever it takes to make you talk,” Dean informed harshly, cutting a small piece of his skin at his neck. Metatron squirmed. “See, you took his grace, made the angels hate him, and that’s unforgivable.”  
            “Please, the angels hate him because he likes you,” Metatron declared with sarcasm.  
            “You pinned the angels against each other—you made it look like it was Cas’s fault that they fell,” Dean recalled defensively.  
            “Yeah, and he revealed to the angels that he cares more about you than he could ever care about them. Doesn’t really go well for any political platform—that he’s fallen in love with a lesser kind. Although I must say, you do make good waffles.”  
            “Shut up! You’re just trying to twist things, this is still all your fault”—  
            “The only person at fault here is you. You’re the one who made Castiel care so much about you and feel so much toward you. I even kind of empathize with the guy now, having human emotions is tough! He probably doesn’t understand them.”  
            “Oh, and you do?” Dean snapped, shaking his head. “You don’t know what he’s feeling.”  
            “I don’t have to know, I can see it all over his face! I’ve watched enough movies to know what that kind of devotion and admiration looks like. Why do you think Castiel’s grace was so important to that spell? It had to be him, Dean.”  
            “Enough talking about it! Where is the demon tablet?” he demanded but his phone began to ring. Sam calling. Dean stared at his phone for a few moments before he answered, walking away from the man tied to the chair and outside to get privacy.  
            “Dean!” Sam shouted from the other end.  
            “Hey—we found Metatron, kind of in the middle of interrogating him”—  
            “I know where Amara is,” Sam blurted out, grabbing Dean’s attention.  
            “What? How?” Dean questioned.  
            “We were in the diner, discussing any information she’s gathered on The Darkness and Amara when we were approached by another hunter who noticed Amber’s tattoo. He informed us that a town about an hour away from us did a news story in the paper on those infected people—small story, no mass hysteria yet. It’s spreading—and you were right, the monsters are building armies against the darkness. They’re terrified. I headed out with her to go back to the hotel when we were mugged by two vetalas.”  
            “Are you okay?”  
            “Yes! Of course! I would have called sooner but, well, we were caught up in that. They had a whole nest—hoarding bodies, they were talking about farming bodies for them to eat. They were kidnapping couples, forcing them to reproduce, well—you get the gist, they thought we were a couple, which is why they attacked us.”  
            “Well, at least they had enough courtesy to kidnap couples,” Dean joked.  
            “Dean, they’re not only terrified. They’re working together.”  
            “What? Are you serious?” Dean blurted out.  
            “Yes! They had vampires there as well. They said under normal circumstances, they would never work together, but in this time of crisis, well…”  
            “Where are you now?” Dean questioned.  
            “Heading back to the hotel. We were dragged about an hour away, but we got a car. What about you?”  
            “We captured Metatron”—Dean spoke, heading back in to the building, but Metatron was nowhere to be found. “Dammit!”  
            “What’s happening?” Sam yelled form the other line as Dean panicked, running up to the seat where Metatron had been, the ropes that bound him cut.  
            “He escaped,” Dean informed. “I didn’t think he would figure out how to escape—he hasn’t been human for very long.”  
            “He’s clever.”  
            “Well, never mind him, bigger fish and he’s just one of us now. Are we heading to that town where those people are infected?” Dean questioned, shaking his head.  
            “Yeah, Dean—he saw her. That man saw Amara. He had been to the town days before the article was released and told me he saw a young woman with a mark on her chest. She’s grown a lot but it has to be her.”  
            “What? Again?” Dean questioned.  
            “She’s like a young adult now, Dean. I don’t know, it’s weird.”  
            “Well, I’ll meet you at the hotel. I’ll go ahead and pack the car up so we can leave as soon as you get there.”  
            “Okay.”  
            Dean informed Castiel of the situation as soon as he opened the driver’s door. Castiel was unhappy about Metatron’s escape, but he was eager to find out more about Amara and the darkness and help in any way he could. Back at the hotel, Dean shoved their belongings into the duffle bags and tossed them into the car. He was worked up and ready to get to the bottom of their problem, but Sam was taking longer than he had hoped. Dean paced the floor as Castiel sat, watching him.  
            “Dean, maybe you should sit down”—  
            “I can’t,” Dean objected.  
            “Alright, well, I’ll stand up,” Cas offered.  
            “Talk to me about something— anything besides the darkness. That’ll make time pass quicker and Sam will get here so we can get on it.”  
            “Um, okay,” Cas agreed, but his mind was blank. “Metatron”—  
            “Not Metatron, either,” Dean interrupted.  
            “Well, how did he escape?” Cas questioned, ignoring his orders.  
            “I don’t know, we used rope and he apparently had something that chewed through it. I know you really wanted to catch him and get the tablet but he’s not hurting anyone right now,” Dean spoke.  
            “You don’t have to justify your decision to me,” Cas informed, “I’ll go with you no matter where you need me to go.”  
            “Thank you,” Dean stopped pacing, halting in front of Castiel. Cas stared at him softly, wishing he could find a topic to talk about that would somehow ease Dean’s anxiety. Dean, on the other hand, began recalling his conversation with Metatron regarding Cas. He became curious, but he was afraid to ask any questions.  
            “I wish Sam would hurry up,” Dean whispered.  
            “Me too,” Cas agreed, “If it means you’ll feel better.”  
            “Don’t say that.”  
            “What?” Cas turned his face up in confusion. “Why?”  
            “If it means I’ll feel better, don’t say that. Don’t be so concerned about me.”  
            “Dean”—  
            “Cas, I don’t understand you. Angel warrior of heaven who has lived since the beginning of time so caught up on me. What makes me so special?” Dean questioned harshly. Cas grew quiet, offended by Dean’s aggression. Dean sensed the distaste of his words. He attempted to rephrase them in his head. He softened his voice and posture and licked his lips, preparing his words carefully.  
            “Cas, I’m not good with words, you know that. What I mean to say is”—he spoke slowly, placing a soft hand on Cas’s shoulder, which brought Cas’s full attention to Dean, “How do you feel about me?”  
            “Dean, I”—  
            “Humor me, please,” Dean pleaded more than he had anticipated, but he was really curious to know now that not only Sam had brought it up but Metatron as well.  
            “Well, I feel like you are a good person. A righteous man with a good heart—I feel like you have your best intentions, and you are always a little angry but you have every right to be”—  
            “No, Cas,” Dean interrupted, leaning in closer. His hand dropped from Castiel’s shoulder and grazed over his fingers instead. Cas looked down at their hands and then up at Dean, his head tilted in confusion. “What do you feel towards me?”  
            Dean took a step back, unsure of what he was trying to accomplish. He removed his hand from its soft position over Castiel’s and his eyes stared at the angel in front of him, curious with questions seeking answers.  
            “I’ve been alive for a very long time,” Cas began finally, his thoughts collecting, “But nothing has ever quite made me feel the way I feel about you. It’s overwhelming and I don’t understand it,” he admitted, “Human emotions are so complicated to me. I’ve been around since the beginning, and yet what I do understand is that I think you are worth so much more than you give yourself credit for, and that how I feel about you…I want to protect you, I want you to be happy, and I want nothing more than for you to see just how important you are to this world and to your brother and I.”  
            “Cas, I don’t know what to say”—  
            “I don’t either, not really,” Cas admitted, “I’m still very new to this experience, these…feelings, but I know for certain that I have never in all of my existence felt this way about anyone but you. How I feel towards your brother…it’s similar, but not quite the same. It’s easy to differentiate, but I’m unsure what you would call how I feel, other than a profound bond, but that seems to make you uncomfortable, which is mainly why I’ve never brought it up again…”  
            “No, Cas, it’s okay,” Dean smiled. “You can tell me anything. Secrets haven’t exactly been good for this family, so it’s okay.”  
            “Are you sure, Dean?” Cas questioned and Dean nodded.  
            “Thank you for telling me,” Dean spoke, “Honestly…I kind of have been feeling the same way.”  
            “Really?” Cas questioned, his face lighting up. Dean nodded shyly.  
            “I’ve always kind of known that I don’t see you the same way I see my brother—but that’s not a bad thing, it doesn’t mean we aren’t family, it just means…I feel…something more towards you that I’m unfamiliar with and it scares the crap out of me because I feel like everyone I care about gets hurt, and I don’t want to ever see you hurt,” Dean bowed his head, breaking his stare with the angel. He felt ashamed and scared, “I’m not used to letting my guard down like this.”  
            “Dean…” Cas whispered, shaking his head and in that moment Sam bust through the door, Dean instantly backed away from Cas, ending their conversation.  
            “Hey, is everything okay?” Sam questioned, sensing tension.  
            “Yeah, let’s go,” Dean nodded at Cas softly and the trio headed out the door once again.  
            This time, the road trip was not quiet. Sam was hurling information at Dean, and Dean would listen and respond while Cas would chime in occasionally. Instantly, the three were a team again, and Dean and Cas pushed aside previous thoughts for the sake of their new mission, a feat Dean was not foreign to.  
What Sam was tipped at the diner was true—the darkness had touched another town and soulless people were roaming around violently next to their deranged-by-darkness companions. The article had called it a mad-cow like outbreak, but of course they were clueless, and doctors from nearby cities had came in to treat the sick.  
            “We need to lure them out somehow—use the holy oil,” Sam informed his brother and the angel as they stood in front of the open trunk of the impala.  
            “How big is this town?” Cas questioned.  
            “Tiny—they have a small town square that is a bunch of office buildings, houses, a post office, and a few stores but that’s it, really. The population is only six hundred, and the closest city nearby is ten minutes away.”  
            “That’s good—should be easy to quarantine,” Dean concluded.  
            “Yeah, which apparently they already tried doing that and curing the sick but they have no idea what they are dealing with.”  
            “What about the soulless ones? Amara’s been busy,” Dean spoke. “Crowley killed Jenna, it seemed to be the only thing that worked or are you still in to saving all the people?”  
            “We will deal with them after the infected ones,” Sam suggested, “They’re murderous but they can’t spread their disease like the others.”  
            “Good point,” Dean agreed.  
            The process of trapping and curing the infected people was tedious and difficult, but they were naturally lured to the purity of the brothers and the angel. Their only desire was to infect the three but they failed every time. They had set up a system where Sam barricaded an empty office building where the cured people would go after being escorted by Dean and Castiel and would stay until everyone was cured or dead. Several times infected people had attempted to break through the barricade, but Sam had back up holy oil to cure those people.  
            It was during one of their escorts to the building when Dean saw her—Amara, now a young woman. It was ominous and instant—his attention suddenly adverted from Castiel and the small group of people they were with to her. Castiel noticed the falter.  
            “Dean!” Cas yelled, grabbing his companion from his trance with a single touch on his shoulder. Dean’s eyes instantly darted back to Castiel, whatever enchantment that had been there was broken the moment he looked into Cas’s eyes.  
            “Take them to safety,” Cas demanded, “I’ll handle her.”  
            “No—Cas, she’s too dangerous,” Dean protested.  
            “Not to me, Dean, I have no soul for her to swallow,” Cas reminded him. It took Dean several moments before he obeyed his feathered friend, but he knew it would be best. Cas was stronger than him, and he was right— despite how righteous and kind Cas was, he still technically lacked a soul. She was no threat to him. Dean nodded and continued his pursuit, leaving Cas to stare at Amara from a distance, Amara watching as Dean darted away.  
            “Incredible how you can turn his attention away from me like that,” Amara whispered, approaching the angel. “That’s not easy to accomplish, considering our bond.”  
            “You have no bond with Dean,” Cas snapped, “You are just using that—you’re using him, putting him under a spell. I know that when I see it.”  
            “I suppose you would be quite immune to my seductions,” Amara agreed. “Angels are harder to enchant than humans or demons, but it’s not impossible, especially an angel like you.”  
            "Angel like me?" Cas questioned, his eyes squinting.

            Amara smiled. "I haven't been free for very long, and I can tell that without a doubt you not only contain essence of grace inside you, but soul as well. I don't know how, or why, but it's still there. I'm more of a threat to you than you realize."

            "That's...not possible," Cas spoke.

            "It's true," Amara reassured.

            “Why are you here?” Cas questioned.

            “You set me free,” she spoke honestly, her voice emotionless and pure. “Yes, the mark on Dean was the key to what locked me away, but you…you proceeded with the spell.”  
            “I’m not going to fall for your tactics,” Cas objected, standing his ground.  
            “You’re wrong about Dean and I,” Amara spoke suddenly, “We are bonded, in a way not even you can break. He’s strong, for now, but a day will come when Dean Winchester turns away from you and walks toward me.”  
            “Dean will always choose the light over the darkness,” Cas snapped defensively, “You don’t know him like I do—you can’t see his soul as more than just something to temp or devour. There’s a light in him that I saw the moment I rescued him from hell. Him and his brother—despite everything—are not easily corrupted. You may think you know Dean Winchester, but you are wrong. He may have been the key to unleashing the darkness, but do not think for one moment that he is anything but light and that he is not strong enough to break free of your seduction.”  
Amara smiled slightly and approached the angel. Cas stiffened, unsure of what she was doing. She placed an unusually gentle hand on the angel’s chest, staring at it for a few moments before tilting her head up to look at him.  
            “Here you are, the manifestation of light having a conversation with the dark, and I can still touch you. We are not opposites, like your father believes. You came from me. We are not so dissimilar...and yes...a soul - I can feel it throbbing inside you. Not as strong as most humans, I think the angel part of you overpowers it, but it's as if the two are fighting with each other. What is Castiel?”  
            "You know my name?"

            "Of course I do. I know everything," Amara whispered.

            “Stop,” Cas muttered, “I’m not falling for what you have to say.”  
            “I know,” Amara whispered, “Your loyalty is clear. It doesn’t matter; despite what you believe what I have said is true. There’s no stopping it—I have big plans and Dean Winchester is mine.”  
            “Not if I can stop it,” Cas mumbled.  
            “What bond could you possibly share with Dean that would prevent him from joining me?” Amara questioned suddenly, taking a few steps back.  
            This question stuck with Cas. He pondered an answer, suddenly forced to recollect every detail of his relationship with Dean. He recalled their first encounter. He recalled the angels separating him from Dean, fearing he had began expressing emotions for him. He recalled rebelling against heaven for Dean. He recalled coming to Dean’s every call. He remembered all the stares, the glances, and the small smiles that Dean forced onto Castiel’s face so easily, and how several times the angel had returned the favor. He remembered their talks— how Dean let his guard down around him and how Castiel felt like he could be himself around the man when he couldn’t even do that around his angel siblings. He remembered the heartbreak in Dean’s eyes when Sam went to hell, and how he had rescued him because Sam didn’t deserve to be in hell and Dean didn’t deserve to be unhappy. He remembered how painful it was to lie to Dean, and how heartbreaking it was when he found out he was working with Crowley. He remembered how terrible he felt for failing Dean, and how he wanted nothing more than to make up every mistake. He remembered how Dean would rather have him, cursed or not, and how he never wanted him to change. He remembered purgatory. He remembered all of their embraces, and what it felt like to be needed, because Dean needed him. He remembered all the prayers Dean had sent to Cas over the years of their friendship. He remembered the look on Dean’s face when he realized that Cas wasn’t dead, and the heartbreak he felt when Dean wanted him gone, but that paled in comparison to what Castiel felt when Metatron had informed him that Dean was dead, and the need to save him when he was a demon. He remembered how it hurt to see his best friend become the monster he wasn’t, and how that hurt more than the beating he had received when Dean was under the mark’s influence. He remembered how Dean always looked for him when he was lost, and how he always did the same. He remembered the struggles. He remembered how he had done it all for Dean. He remembered how despite everything, he needed Dean, and Dean needed him.  
            “A more profound one,” Cas answered finally. Amara raised her eyebrows as if she were shocked by this answer, “I believe in Dean Winchester.”  
            “I know you do,” Amara spoke, “I can feel it. It’s your mission—saving this human, but how will you save him when he doesn’t want to be saved?”  
            “It will never reach that point,” Cas reassured, “The bond Dean shares with his brother and I is greater than any bond you claim you have with him, and he will always choose us over you.”  
            “We’ll see about that,” Amara claimed, “We’ll meet again.”  
            “I’m not letting you get away”—  
            Just as Castiel had taken a step forward to Amara, a soulless woman with dark blonde hair knocked him out with one clean shot to his head using a shotgun. He fell to the ground and the woman exchanged looks with Amara.  
            “Thank you,” she spoke before turning from the woman, walking away.  
Dean had saved the people he had been accompanying. Sam frantically asked him where Castiel was, and when Dean informed him that they had spotted Amara and she had aged, Sam became worried.  
            “She just keeps aging and getting stronger—I can feel it,” Dean explained. “I’m going back for Cas…maybe we can save a few more people before this thing kills them.”  
            Dean nodded to his brother who shut and locked the door to the building. They had saved nearly two hundred people and they were all piled up in the office building, terrified but grateful. They formed community and chatted with each other. They demanded explanation, and Sam reassured them that he would explain everything as soon as the town was exterminated form the sickness.  
            Dean was cautious as he reentered the contamination zone. Bodies lay around, seizing to death or already deceased. He approached where the angel and him had seen Amara, but he felt no uneasiness. He knew she was gone, but Castiel lay on the ground in the middle of the street—unconscious.  
            “Cas!” he yelled upon seeing him, running up to greet the angel. He cradled him in his hands, pulling him up onto his lap. His grace was already healing him rapidly—he hadn’t been out for long. He was foggy, but he woke up upon being moved, his head heavy and his vision blurred.  
            “Dean?” he questioned.  
            “Yeah—hey, what happened? Are you okay?” Dean asked, running his fingers along the back of Cas’s head. Where he had been hit left a gash, but it was already healing. Still, Dean worried for him, especially since he was still not completely over being under Rowena’s spell.  
            “I’m fine—Amara, we talked. Did she get away?” Cas questioned, his eyes darting around to search for her.  
            “Yeah, she’s no where around here, she must have gotten away. We still have people to save, Cas, are you up for it?”  
            “Of course,” Cas answered, lifting himself up into a sitting position next to Dean. He held his head, which was still throbbing. His eyes met Dean’s before darting to the side, realizing that there was a short, round man standing behind Dean with a gun lifted to his head.  
            “Don’t move,” the man demanded. Dean could see the fear in Cas’s eyes. Dean sat still, but the man turned the gun suddenly and slammed it against Dean’s head, knocking him out. He pointed it at Castiel, who raised his hands as a response.  
            “That won’t work,” Cas informed.  
            “Shut up,” the man demanded.  
            “What do you want with us?” Cas questioned.  
            “I want to know what your insides look like,” the man spoke plainly, “I’ve always wondered, and here two good healthy men are—what a joy it would be to find out!”  
            “We can help you,” Cas reasoned, lifting himself up onto his knees. He noticed that the man was in scrubs, a nametag on his chest read his name and Cas spoke it— “Henry.”  
            “Yeah, doctor James Henry,” the man corrected him, “But I don’t want to be helped—stay still or I’ll shoot you!” the man yelled but Cas ignored him, stepping up. The man shot and hit Cas in the chest, which took him back but didn’t kill him. He huffed, his breath taken from the force, but he was nowhere near dying from the shot. The man stared at him with wide eyes.  
            “Fascinating!” the man spoke. “A man who can’t die!”  
            “Now, can we settle this accordingly”—  
            “But he can die, can’t he?” the man pointed his gun to Dean’s lifeless body and suddenly Castiel was still. “Come with me or I’ll shoot him.”  
            Cas was hesitant as the man motioned for him to come closer to him, but the gun aimed at Dean was threatening. Cas moved slowly, his eyes fixated on the man’s. Suddenly, the same soulless blonde woman from before returned from behind and knocked Castiel unconscious once again. The two stood over their bodies with wide eyes and adrenaline, their soulless nature curious and menacing.  
            “We got some,” the man spoke with a devious smile.  
            “Everyone in this damn town keeps disappearing,” the woman, who was also in scrubs, mentioned, “But these two should keep us occupied for a while.”  
            When Dean awoke it was already nightfall. His pockets had been picked and his plaid shirt-coat combination had been taken off of him. Any weapons he was carrying had been taken away and Castiel lay next to him wherever they were, still unconscious. Dean groaned and sat up, a little bulb hanging from the ceiling at the far end of the room was their only light source. He wasn’t bound to anything, and from the dampness of the room, Dean guessed they were in a basement or cellar of sorts. There was a door next to a staircase which Dean hoped was an exit and automatically went to it— jiggling the handle and wishing he had something to pick the lock with, but his jacket had been taken from him, which is where he carried paper clips and other odd items he could pick a lock with.  
            “Dammit,” Dean whispered, staring upwards into the darkness. He heard groaning and turned to see Cas leaning up from his resting position on the ground. They had taken his trench coat and everything in his pockets as well. His eyes were still closed and he was shaky. Two blows to his head in one day was enough to slow anyone down—angel or not. Dean ran to him.  
            “Hey—hey, Cas, are you okay?”  
            “Where are we?” Cas countered, ignoring Dean’s concerning question. He sat up, leaning against one of the pillars of the room.  
            “I don’t know, basement maybe? Can you try zapping out and getting help?” Dean asked hopefully and Cas shook his head.  
            “I haven’t been able to do that in a long time, Dean,” Cas reminded him, “Guess I’m useless.”  
            “Don’t say that,” Dean defended, sitting down next to the angel. “We’ll figure a way out of this.”  
            “The man who attacked you—he’s a doctor, I think. He had a tag. Henry. He said his name was James Henry. I think he was one of the doctors sent here to diagnose the outbreak.”  
            “Yeah, well, guess even the good doc can’t hide form the darkness,” Dean spoke. "I'm guessing things with Amara didn't go over so well with you?"  
            "No," Cas admitted, "Dean, she said something that made me question things. She informed me that I was wrong - that apparently I do have some kind of soul, and that she can feel it."

            "What?" Dean questioned instantly, "But you're an angel?"

            "It would make sense," Cas whispered, "I mean, how else could I have become a human when Metatron took my grace? Apparently a small part of my grace remained in my body, even after Metatron took it, and in an effort to keep me alive it shifted into becoming a human soul. After I regained my grace...I guess the soul is still there. It would explain why I can't fly and get headaches, and why I share characteristics of both."

"I thought that was because you were cut off form heaven?" Dean pointed out. Cas shook his head.

"I thought so at first, too, but like I said...this time, it's different. Perhaps Amara is right. It makes sense to me, Dean, but I guess I just never thought about it."

            "Well, when we get out of all of this we will go find Metatron and see if he has answers," Dean suggested, "But for night now we have to get the hell out of here."   Moments later, the door at the top of the staircase flung open. The woman and man from before descended downwards with two others, shutting the door behind them. They were smiling. Dean was prepared to fight, but he was hesitant as they came with no guns or weapons he could take from them.

“I’ve always wanted some pets,” the blonde woman said with a smile. She, too, wore a nametag—Woods, and was dressed in scrubs. The other two were younger and their nametags showcased Tate and Amos.  
            “What is this? Let us go,” Dean demanded and the man laughed.  
            “Why would we do that, when we just got you? We have so much to learn,” Doctor Henry informed.  
            “So, what? The Darkness eats your soul and now you get kicks out of torturing people?” Dean questioned.  
            “Having souls is what kept us from doing what we’ve always wanted to do,” the woman, Doctor Woods, explained, “And we have no intentions of torturing you…well, not just for the fun of torture.”  
            “For science!” Henry explained enthusiastically.  
            “For science?” Dean repeated with disbelief.  
            “That’s right,” one of the new people chimed in, stepping forward with two plates of food. “Last meal before the operations.”  
            “Operations? Okay—wow, so what are you all? Surgeons gone rogue?” Dean questioned.  
            “We are all doctors, yes,” the woman confirmed, “I’m Doctor Shelly Woods, this is James Henry, Delia Tate, and Ed Amos.”  
            “We were recruited here to help the sick,” Doctor Amos informed, “When the most extraordinary thing happened—we were touched by a god! Suddenly, all our guilt was drained away. Nothing can stop us from learning what we’ve always wanted to learn. We were always told, as doctors, the inhumane ways to answers, but now…nothing is inhumane. Who would miss two more people? Everyone in this town is dead or dying.”  
            “You’ll be easy to cover up,” Doctor Henry confirmed, “Genocide everywhere, you’ll just fit in.”  
            “Well, sure, why not, of course we get captured by a bunch of soulless psychopathic Doctor House’s,” Dean spoke in disbelief. The man frowned.  
            “Eat up,” he demanded, gesturing to the plate of food held by his companion. “It will probably be your last meal.”  
            “Yeah right, asshole,” Dean snapped, jolting up from his resting position and attacking the man, sending one blow to his face, which undoubtedly broke his nose. Cas rose but was unsure of what to do. He held his hands up, ready to fight if he needed to. The other man sat the food down and kicked Dean in the back of the knee, which destroyed Dean’s ground. He fell and the man kicked him in the stomach repetitively. Dean grunted, each blow taking his breath away. Cas grabbed Amos and pulled him away from Dean, but Cas was instantly met with a punch in the face by Woods, faltering him, giving the two men time to flee up the stairs.  
            “Just eat your damn food,” the woman snapped at Cas before she darted upstairs with the men, “It’ll be over with soon.”  
            Cas bent down to meet Dean just as the door slammed shut from on top of the stairs. Dean hunched over, his face to the ground and his arms cradling his hurting stomach.  
            “Dean,” Cas spoke, wrapping an arm over the man’s back, sitting next to him on the soggy ground.  
            “I’m okay,” Dean answered after a few moments, his voice taken from the pain he felt in his abdomen.  
            “Let me help you,” Cas whispered, sitting Dean up. He helped him back up against the pillar and the two sat down, Dean leaning on Cas for support, his face scrunched in pain and his body hunched over in an attempt to ease the throbbing in his stomach. Without permission, Cas pressed his index and middle finger against Dean’s forehead and Dean could feel the pain drain away, relief pouring in as Cas healed him, “We need you at full strength if we want to get out of this.”  
            “Thank you, Cas,” Dean whispered, his face still full of pain despite no longer feeling it. His expression worried Cas, who positioned himself away from Dean now that he was healed; sitting in front of him so he could see his face.  
            “What’s wrong, Dean?” Cas questioned softly upon seeing Dean’s expression, “Did I not heal you properly?”  
            “No, no, Cas, you did a great job,” Dean reassured him, “I’m just so stupid, man.”  
            “Dean…” Cas whispered, knowing where this conversation was heading. He shook his head, unsure of what to say or do, but knowing in his heart that whatever Dean was feeling guilty over was not his fault.  
            “Don’t defend me,” Dean snapped, emotion boiling in his small voice, “I’m the reason we are in this mess.”  
            “We will get out of it, Dean, we always do,” Cas reassured.  
            “No,” Dean whispered, shaking his head. He sighed shakily. He wanted to be strong, but he was slowly letting his guard down, and he was oddly okay with it. He never felt ashamed or embarrassed to be upset around Cas, even if it meant crying, but all the pain Dean was feeling and mistakes he had made were exploding in his mind and building up uncontrollably in this moment—trapped in a basement with an angel, his brother completely unaware of where he was or what had happened to him in a town that had faced genocide because of something he had unleashed and taken on because he hadn’t thought things through.  
            “What do you mean?” Cas asked softly, “Dean, we are way stronger than these people, we can get out of this mess.”  
            “No, Cas,” Dean spoke, “I know we will, but…all these people in this town—they’re still dead. They still faced soullessness and disease because of me.”  
            “Dean”—  
            “It’s all my fault, Cas,” Dean whispered uneasily, bowing his head. The tears had began to flow, slowly and singularly but they were still there, “I screw up everything I touch. I can’t do anything right without somehow making five new wrongs.”  
            “You can’t take all the blame, Dean,” Cas defended, placing a gentle on top of Dean’s, which caused Dean to immediately tense up but Cas ignored it. He knew Dean needed comfort and reassurance, whether he wanted it or not. “If you really think about it, I’m the one to blame.”  
            “No, Cas”—Dean objected, looking up at the angel.  
            “I went through with the spell, even when you told me not to, even when you and Sam were ready to face eternity separated. I went through with it. I guess Death didn’t suspect that I would be so careless,” Cas elaborated.  
            “You were just trying to help me,” Dean spoke, “You were being a good friend.”  
            “Good friends read in to all the warnings before they do something irrational, but Dean…I just wanted you back,” Castiel admitted, lowering his eyes shyly, “I was selfish, I suppose. I hated seeing you that way, so I went through with it regardless of the consequences.”  
            “Yeah, but you knew what taking on the mark meant,” Dean reminded, “That look you gave me when you saw it on my arm for the first time—you knew it was something dark, and if I had went to you first without jumping the gun and taking it on, we would never be in this situation.”  
            “Dean…”  
            “I don’t think things through, Cas. I trusted Crowley over my own brother and you. I should have told Sam I was wrong when I let Gadreel in— begged for his forgiveness— but I was so stubborn. Then maybe…you and him would have been around to prevent me from doing something stupid. Prevent me from going to Crowley. Prevent me from visiting Cain and taking on the mark. We could have found another way to take on Abaddon—hell, cut her up, scatter her across the whole universe for all I care…then maybe…maybe Jenna would still be alive”—  
            “Dean”—  
            “And Rudy, and this whole town, and Amara’s parents, hell, even Death, and I wouldn’t feel like such a screw up…” Dean’s words trailed off and lost him. He was unsure of what to say. The two sat in silence for a few moments, Dean unwilling to look at Cas, feeling ashamed and embarrassed of all of his mistakes. Cas watched him carefully, hands still touching. His eyes fluttered downwards, staring at them briefly before he looked up at Dean again.  
            “We can’t dwell on what could have been or what has happened,” Cas spoke softly, catching Dean’s attention briefly before Dean’s eyes wandered away again, not wanting to listen to Castiel’s reasoning. “What we have to focus on is what is going on now and how we can get out of this.”  
            “Please don’t defend me, Cas,” Dean objected softly.  
            “What?” Cas snapped in disbelief.  
            “You know I’m reckless, you know my plans are never thought out, and you still come along. What does that make you?” Dean questioned.  
            “Trusting,” Cas answered softly.  
            “Well, you trust the wrong people,” Dean whispered.  
            “No, I don’t, really,” Cas opposed, “My trust lies with you, Dean, because you have shown me family. I tried to trust the angels, and they hurt me. You’re stubborn and you make mistakes, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t trust you or follow you. You showed me something no one else has ever showed me, not even my own family.”  
            “I’m not worth it, Cas…” Dean whispered, “Just stop.”  
            “Dean…” Cas whispered slowly, shaking his head. He was unsure of what to do at this point, but he felt like he needed to do something.  
            “You mean so much to the world,” Cas spoke softly, “You have done far greater good than bad. If it wasn’t for you…then everyone would be gone by now—you stopped the apocalypse. You saved the world, and you deserved to be saved.”  
Dean remained silent; the words coming out of the angel’s mouth were painful to him for some reason. There was a sadness in Castiel’s eyes that Dean hated to look at. Dean felt guilty over everything—it was true, and it had always been this way. Stock market crashes? Dean’s fault. Gas prices go up? Dean’s fault. Trying to save the world? Dean’s fault.  
            “You mean so much to me, too, Dean, and to your brother,” Cas spoke finally after a few moments of silence, and that ripped Dean apart more than anything else Cas had ever said. It was so simple, but meant so much. Dean hardly had any family left, but at least he still had Sam and Cas. Still, Dean remained silent and still. He didn’t know how to react to Cas’s kindness. The tears had halted, but the sadness lingered on his face. Cas wouldn’t have it. Cas watched him carefully.  
            Cas removed the hand that had been over Dean’s. Dean didn’t move, but he didn’t like the sudden coldness he felt when Cas moved away and he didn’t expect what would happen next. It was a simple gesture, light and soft, but it was full of so much meaning and built up emotion. Cas kneeled down next to the man, his eyes soft and tender. His face was close—Dean was forced to look up at him as he moved closer. Dean’s sad expression shifted to curiosity and uncertainty, unsure of what Cas was doing. Cas moved slowly, uncertain himself of what he was doing. Dean’s eyes flickered down to Cas’s lips, captivated by their closeness and slight part. He was torn between staring at them and staring at Cas’s gentle blue eyes, full of engrossing tranquility. Cas’s attention was undivided. They were focused completely on the sorrowful green in front of him. When Cas’s nose finally met Dean’s, Cas paused for a moment, his eyes falling shut as he tilted his chin. Dean breathed heavily, his body stiffening as Cas pressed his faintly parted lips against Dean’s. Dean had been kissed several times, often when he wasn’t expecting it to happen, but nothing like this. The previous ones were passionate, full of desire and lust, but this was different. It was awkward, but gentle and delicate—a way of saying “I care about you, in more ways than you know.” It was innocent and subtle, not heated or sloppy. It was barely a kiss—their lips hardly moved, but it was enough to make Dean question everything, and for everything to become so clear.  
            Dean closed his eyes after a few moments, accepting and embracing what Cas was offering him. He loosened up. He let Cas in. It was odd as any first kiss—as if neither of them had ever kissed anyone before, but Dean found comfort in it. He kissed back, but softly, after realizing what was happening. The closeness lasted only a few seconds before Cas pulled away slowly. Dean was caught up in the surprise that he barely had time to think about what was going on before Cas moved away.  
            “I’m sorry, Dean,” Cas whispered suddenly, looking away. He sat back now, staring off, distant from the man he had just kissed, “That was uncalled for.”  
            “No, no, Cas”—Dean shook his head, surprised and unsure of how to react. He grew awkward, “It’s okay.”  
            “I was just so overwhelmed with emotion—I didn’t know how to react. I’ve never done that before, I just know sometimes humans find comfort in that so I just thought”—  
            “Cas, you don’t have to explain yourself,” Dean insisted, “It’s okay.”  
            “Are you sure?” Cas questioned, guilt and regret all over his face as he finally looked at Dean.  
            “Y-yeah, I’m sure,” Dean reassured him with a smile. Cas smiled softly, bowing his head shyly. He didn’t know what to say or do. The two sat in silence for a few moments, Dean staring at Cas.  
            “This changes everything, doesn’t it?” Cas questioned finally.  
            “That doesn’t have to be a bad thing,” Dean reassured him.  
            “I…I don’t understand why you aren’t angry with me. Running through it in my head—I feel like this shouldn’t be your reaction.”  
            “Maybe not,” Dean agreed halfheartedly, “But honestly, Cas, you kissing me is not the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. How am I supposed to react? Am I supposed to hate you now? Am I supposed to freak out? I’d be lying if I told you that out of all of the surprise kisses I’ve ever received, that one wasn’t the most shocking, but it doesn’t mean it was unwelcomed.”  
            “What do you mean?” Cas questioned, turning his head up and squinting his eyes with curiosity. Dean laughed.  
            “I mean, come on, Cas, I think you and I have been keeping some serious secrets from each other. This thing that we have—whatever it is, I don’t know, but to be honest I don’t know how I feel, but maybe…what just happened… it was something right in this whole world of wrong. I’m just saying…I’ve been kissed by way worse, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want it, but I’ve always been too big of a coward myself to do it, and, well, I’ll try anything once.”  
            “You’re not a coward, Dean,” Cas defended.  
            “And there you go, defending me,” Dean chuckled. His mood had been completely altered by the incident, and that delighted Castiel.  
            “What now?” Cas asked after a few moments of silent staring. Dean shrugged, his eyes darting to the staircase.  
            “We figure out a way to get out of this place, and we finish saving this town,” Dean suggested and Cas nodded.  
            “Do you have a plan?” Cas questioned.  
            “Yeah,” Dean spoke, “You.”  
            “What?” Cas asked suddenly, “Dean, I’m not nearly as powerful as I once was”—  
            “I believe in you, Cas,” Dean interrupted, “Like you believe in me.”  
            “Dean…”  
            “I know you can knock that door down and we can beat these soulless sons of bitches, but you have to believe that you can do it. I know you’re cut off from heaven—or whatever—but that doesn’t mean you’re not strong by yourself. You can do this.”  
            “I don’t know about this, Dean,” Cas shook his head.  
            “Well, you can always try,” Dean offered, “And if it doesn’t work, we will figure something else out.”  
            By this time, Sam had called both Dean and Cas at least twenty times each. It was nighttime, and the people in the office building had become impatient and restless. Sam was unsure of how to occupy them or to check and see if the city was clear without threatening their safety. He figured the best thing to do was to wait for the morning, and so he did.  
            “Can you hear them? Are they nearby?” Dean whispered at the top of the staircase, as if the soulless people had super hearing.  
            “No,” Cas informed, “They’re gone, for now. Not sleeping, of course, they don’t need to do that, but they’re not around.”  
            “Good, that’s good,” Dean spoke as Cas placed a hand on the door.  
            “Too bad we don’t have a way to pick the lock,” Cas spoke and Dean rolled his eyes.  
            “Dude, seriously? When we had Metatron and I was beating him up you literally knocked the whole door down when I wouldn’t open the door, and you weren’t at full power then, either. You’ve got this.”  
            Cas nodded slowly, unsure of himself. He placed his hand against the door and pushed, closing his eyes to focus on the task in front of him. Dean was supportive, and Cas didn’t want to let him down. It was difficult, but with enough focus and force, the door busted open.  
            “Awesome, great work! I knew you had it in you,” Dean spoke, patting the angel on the shoulder as the two scurried out of the basement and into the house they were being held captive at. “Now we just need to find our stuff.”  
            “Dean,” Cas spoke, gesturing to a table in the kitchen that conveniently contained their belongingness scattered out along with other objects that didn’t belong to them—blood splattered pictures, cell phones, little personal belongings. Dean grabbed his shirt and put it on under his jacket, stuffing his pockets full of the knives he carried and the gun. Cas stood by, his eyes searching the place. They finally landed on the floor a few yards away from them.  
            “Awesome,” Dean whispered to himself, his hope finally forming again.  
            “Dean,” Cas whispered, tapping Dean on the arm. His attention instantly turned to the angel, who pointed at three bloody dead bodies on the ground. Dean recognized their faces—two of the men, and one woman, butchered from who knows what. Doctor Woods was not among the dead.  
            “What the hell,” Dean whispered.  
            “Who killed them?” Cas asked, but his question was answered soon enough.  
            “I did,” a small voice spoke from the corner of the room. She blended in—a shadow, but she was still there. She stepped forward; looking down at the bodies she had butchered and then up at the angel and man in front of her. It was Amara—still a young adult, a small satisfied smile on her face. Dean stared at her, overwhelmed by her presence. “They were going to kill you, and while I wouldn’t mind them killing you, angel, I can’t have them kill Dean.”  
            “You’re the one who made them this way,” Dean reminded her and she shrugged.  
            “Doesn’t mean I want them to kill anyone—I was just hungry, what their secret desires are has nothing to do with me, it’s all simply what they wanted to really do that was kept from them because of their conscious…whatever that is,” Amara explained, taking a step towards Dean. Cas interfered, stepping in front of the man next to him. She paused, staring at him.  
            “Don’t come any closer,” Cas warned, parading his angel blade that he had recovered from the table. Amara smiled.  
            “I saved you from these people,” She reminded.  
            “We could have done that ourselves,” Cas reassured, “Leave us alone.”  
            “Fine,” Amara agreed, looking at Dean, “See you soon.”  
            She turned to walk away when Cas charged at her, but he was interrupted by the Woods who was still alive—she grabbed him from behind, wrapping her adrenaline powered fingers around his neck. Amara smiled softly, knowing it was happening, and walked out of the house with ease. Dean picked up his gun and shot the woman in the head without hesitation, her blood splattering all over Castiel and she dropped to the ground. Cas turned slowly to look down at the woman, and then back up at Dean.  
            “Thank you,” Cas whispered hoarsely. “Should we go after her?”  
            “I think we should get to Sam first,” Dean offered.  
            “Okay,” Cas agreed, taking his stuff off of the table. The two left the house, which had been located only a few miles away from the street they had been abducted at. By now, the town was eerily quiet and calm in the night. Fresh bodies laid here and there, some infected and others not. It was apocalyptic, but Dean and Cas made their way through it and to the office where Sam was held.  
            Dean knocked on the door three times.  
            Sam had stayed up while nearly everyone else was asleep. He made his way to the door and looked through the peephole he had made. Dean and Cas stood on the other side, both pulling down the collars of their shirts to reveal clean skin. Sam pushed away the cabinets that had been stacked against the door and unlocked it, letting them in. People churned in their sleep—others awakened.  
            “You’re here!” one little redheaded girl declared upon seeing them, a smile on her face, tugging on her father’s hand.  
            “Dean—what the hell happened?” Sam questioned quickly.  
            “I think the town is clear,” Dean informed him.  
            “How do you know?” Sam asked.  
            “It’s quiet,” Dean answered.  
            “Dean’s right,” Cas vouched, standing quietly to himself as if to listen for something, “No one else infected is alive.”  
            “What about the soulless?” Sam asked. Cas shook his head.  
            “Still a few of them, but with proper police force they can be contained.” Cas answered.  
            “So…the disease didn’t spread?”  
            “No,” Cas spoke, “This town quarantined itself. We should call for help in the morning.”  
            “How are we going to explain this to the police?” Dean questioned.  
            “We’ll tell them what they want to hear,” Sam suggested, “Outbreak of some kind of mad cow-like sickness. They can test these people all they want—they’re clean and they’ll be okay.”  
            “What about the soulless people? We can’t just tell them to lock them up if they haven’t committed a crime,” Dean pointed out.  
            “Yes we can,” an older woman from the crowd chimed in. The three turned—they were completely unaware that over half of the citizens they had saved were listening. “If we tell them—all of us, they’ll have to listen.”  
            “We can’t ask you to do that,” Sam objected.  
            “You don’t have to ask,” a man with glasses spoke, “We’ll do it anyways.”  
            “You don’t understand what’s going on here”—  
            “It doesn’t matter,” the older woman interrupted, running her fingers through the hair of her grandson who sat next to her. She became emotional, pulling him close, “You saved us. You are our heroes. We will do whatever you need us to.”  
            “This would involve locking up your friends—your neighbors, and you’re okay with that?” Dean questioned.  
            “Look,” the man with glasses spoke, “We don’t know what happened here, but I know the look in my son’s eye when he came after me before I was infected—he wasn’t himself. I don’t know if he will get better, but I don’t want him to hurt anyone. This town has suffered enough.”  
            “I’m sorry we couldn’t save everyone,” Dean spoke with emotion in his voice.  
            “You tried,” the little redhead girl spoke with a smile, “That’s more than a lot of people would do.”  
            “Who are you three?” the older woman asked after a few moments, “I want to know the names of the men who saved my grandson and me.”  
            “Look, ma’am—you don’t need to know”—  
            “Please?” she begged, “You deserve some recognition for what you did. You three—you’re saviors.”  
            “I wish we could explain more to you,” Cas spoke now, “But in all honesty we are figuring it out ourselves.”  
            “I’m Dean,” Dean answered finally when the crowd began stirring, wishing to know their names, “Dean Winchester, and this is my brother Sam.”  
            “Sam and Dean,” the woman repeated to remember their names.  
            “This is Castiel—he’s an angel,” Dean informed and the woman’s face lit up with surprise.  
            “An angel?” she questioned.  
            “Yes,” Cas answered, “It’s hard to believe…I know”—  
            “After what we’ve seen today,” another older man chimed in, “Nothing is hard to believe.”  
            “We aren’t going to lie to you all,” Sam spoke, “There are things out there that can’t be explained. What you saw today…that was one of them. There’s a big threat to this world, but we are going to figure out how to stop it, and we are going to save as many people as we can, but we need you all to keep this on the down low. Mass panic won’t do any good.”  
            “You’re asking us to lie about what we saw?” the older man questioned. Dean nodded.  
            “Sam’s right—mass panic isn’t needed if we can stop it, and we will stop it. Besides—there’s no way to prepare for it. This is something only we can do.”  
            “We understand,” the little girl spoke, “We won’t tell.”  
            “Thank you,” Dean said after everyone began shaking their heads, agreeing to the lie they would all tell to anyone outside the town who asked what had happened that day. “Is anyone hurt? Castiel here is a good healer.”  
            “I hurt my leg earlier today”—one person spoke  
            “My face got cut up from falling”—  
            “I think my arm is broken”—  
            “Alright, alright, everyone line up,” Dean gestured for people to come up to Cas, a smile on his face. His first patient was the little girl—she had cut her foot running without shoes on while she was infected. She smiled up at Cas, who smiled back at her. Her father squeezes her hand, a little weary of Cas.  
            “Will this hurt?” she questioned innocently.  
            “No,” Cas answered, bending down, pressing his fingers against her forehead and her foot wound healed instantly. She squealed with excitement and hugged him, thanking him. Cas’s smile widened and he pat her back, looking up at her father who stared at him with bewilderment.  
            “Angel, huh?” he spoke and Cas nodded, standing up. “Where are they in all of this?”  
            “Daddy—don’t be so mean! At least we have one, right? And he healed me!” the girl defended Castiel, tugging on her Dad’s hand. The man smiled and nodded.  
            “Thank you,” he whispered before picking up his daughter, examining her clean foot and returning to his position in the crowd of people. Each person Cas healed made him weaker, but he loved the look of appreciation and awe on each persons face as he healed them. Sam and Dean watched—all the hugs, the smiles, and the appreciation for the angel made them happy. Cas was elated. He fell in love with humanity even more after that day, and how simple kind gestures unified them—how strangers could come together in a time of crisis and help each other out. The angels never rallied like this. The angels never showed love for each other, let alone strangers.  
            When it was over, Cas was dizzy. He leaned over a chair, nearly toppling over it. He was greeted by Sam and Dean, who held him up and supported him.  
            “You alright?” Sam asked.  
            “I will be,” Cas reassured him, “You know, I used to would never expose myself like I did just now, but in all honesty…these people…they give me hope.”  
The three looked on as the people in front of them passed snacks around and chatted. Some slept, others were up walking around. Someone had cracked open the vending machine and one woman who worked at the office they were staying in had kept some supplies in her desk, which she now shared with strangers.  
            “People focus too much on the bad things,” Dean spoke, “But here…right now. I’ve never felt more like humanity is worth saving, and is worth fighting for.”  
            “And we will be here to fight for it with you, Dean,” Sam confirmed, looking at his brother with a small smile. Dean nodded at him before looking at the angel, who bowed his head shyly. They saved a total of two hundred and eighty seven people that day.  
            The next morning, Sam was the one to make the call to the police. The brothers had gotten a few hours rest as Cas watched over the people. The town lacked a police station because it was so small—the closest one was ten minutes away in the city that was untouched by the disease. The people they saved stuck to their story—a rapid mad cow-like sickness, the few doctors who had not been sucked soulless and have survived confirming to the police their lie. The remaining townspeople agreed to test to ensure that they were not infected, even though they all knew it was out of their systems. The few murders that had taken place during the whole incident were blamed on the soulless people, including the murders of the doctors who had kidnapped Dean and Castiel. Local reporters showed up and all fell for the story. Sam, Dean, and Castiel drove home in the impala, all tired and ready to sleep for days.  
            When they finally returned home, before they slept Sam and Dean agreed to a food run. They hadn’t eaten in a few days, and they wouldn’t be able to sleep on an empty stomach. Castiel stayed behind, his nose poked in some books as he researched the darkness and kept tabs on media coverage of what just happened. Dean placed a hand on Castiel’s shoulder before he said goodbye to him to go with Sam. The two exchanged fond glances, something Sam noticed, before Dean turned his back and walked outside.  
            Dean had learned a lot in the past few days.  
            He pondered on everything that had happened. The guilt he was feeling before was still present, but not nearly as obsessive. He felt good, for once. He had saved some people, and they were grateful that he was doing his job. Him and his brother were good—they were more of a team now more than ever, and him and Cas were good as well. Cas didn’t hate him, despite everything that had happened between them, in fact, Dean felt like Cas and him were closer than ever before. Some kind of boundary had been broken— a wall had came down— and Dean was unsure of what it was or what was going to become of it, but it felt good. It felt right. Suddenly what Sam had told him about being with someone who understood the life made sense to Dean. He already had someone, and whatever was going on between them…he was happy. Confused, but happy. Dean felt like people genuinely cared about him, and that what he was doing was right. He felt motivated. He was going to defeat the darkness for the sake of humanity, and for the sake of his brother and Castiel.  
            “I feel good, Sam,” Dean spoke sleepily. Sam chuckled.  
            “I’m glad you do, Dean,” Sam replied honestly.  
            “We saved some people—we fixed some things…I worked things out with Cas.”  
            “Worked things out?” Sam questioned with a curious smile. Dean shook his head, waving his hand at him.  
            “Don’t act so interested,” Dean snapped playfully.  
            “Oh, but I am,” Sam teased. Dean rolled his eyes and smiled.  
            “Yeah, we talked things out…emotions were discussed, apologies were made”—  
            “Emotions discussed?” Sam questioned. Dean nodded awkwardly.  
            “Well, yeah, you know, I asked him what his favorite color was—green, by the way, and then how he felt about me, and well, turns out…things aren’t as one-sided as I thought,” Dean answered.  
            “One sided? So are you admitting to me…?”  
            “I’m not admitting anything,” Dean snapped, “I just…I don’t know. There’s something there with Cas—something wonderfully awkward and I can’t explain it, but it’s there. I don’t know where it’s going or if it’s even going, but I admit—things between him and I…well, maybe I think of him as a little more than just a friend.”  
            “Oh,” Sam spoke with satisfaction, nodding his head.  
            “Yeah,” Dean chirped, unsure of what to say.  
            “Well, that’s good,” Sam spoke.  
            “Good?” Dean questioned, his tone asking if Sam was okay with this.  
            “Yep,” Sam answered plainly and the car grew silent for a few moments before Sam spoke again, “I totally called it, though. I knew you were overcompensating for something.”  
            “Shut up,” Dean snapped and Sam just laughed. Dean glanced at his brother, who was as happy as he was and he couldn’t help but smile. The two rode off, and when they got home after eating Dean crashed on his bed and rested better than he had in a very long time.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I deleted a bit of this because I thought it was out of character (which, really, I don't think it is, I just thought it didn't fit into the narrative or that Dean's character was really comfortable enough at this point to do this) in which Dean grabs Cas before he goes up the stairs to knock the door down and kisses him again. Here it is:
> 
> “Okay,” Cas agreed after a few moments, standing up. Dean joined him and just as Cas began making his way to the staircase, Dean stopped him with a grip on his shoulder. Cas turned to face the man, unsure of why he was being so forceful. When he turned, he was met with a comforting hand on his cheek. Cas froze as Dean met him, their faces hovering in front of each other. Dean stared at him for a few moments, his hand moving down his cheek, his thumb resting over Cas’s lips as Dean’s eyes darted down to them, his own lips parting slightly as he leaned in, locking their lips together once again. Dean grabbed the angel by his shirt, pulling him in as the other hand rested on his jaw. This kiss was more forceful—more passionate. They moved together, separating skin and then joining lips again several times before Dean pulled away finally and smiled at the shock on Castiel’s face. He released his grip on the angel, who stuttered back.
> 
> “That’s how you kiss someone,” Dean declared with a cheeky grin. Cas shook his head in disbelief, a smile on his face, “Now lets get the hell out of here.”
> 
> “Right,” Cas agreed.
> 
> **I also included my headcanon that Cas has both a soul and grace after what happened to him in season 8. I'm assuming that the little bits of Cas's grace that were left behind in Jimmy's body even after Metatron took it (something Cas explained to Sam - angels leave bits of grace behind even after being extracted) converted into a human soul which allowed for Cas to become a human (otherwise Cas would have left the vessel when his grace was extracted, as his grace is his essence), implanting Cas's new soul into Jimmy's body and making him the new official owner of it. I'm also assuming that even when Cas got his grace back the soul remained and his grace is weakened because his body now also shares a human soul with his grace that is also his, therefore Cas is literally divided between angelic and human characteristics because he contains both bits, not because he is simply locked out of heaven, making Cas an angel with grace and soul. [I know that was redundant, but I hope it made sense.]
> 
> **Also, not sure why the formatting is messed up. Sorry about that.
> 
> **Was written before the release of 11x06


End file.
